CHAPTER V

Faith in the _estancia_ as a field for my activities had been weak from
the first; the Mayordomo's words on his return had extinguished it
altogether; and after hearing that ostrich parable I had only remained
from motives of pride. I now determined to go back towards Montevideo,
not, however, over the route I had come by, but making a wide circuit
into the interior of the country, where I would explore a new field, and
perhaps meet with some occupation at one of the _estancias_ on the way.
Riding in a south-westerly direction towards the Rio Marlo in the
Tacuarembo department, I soon left the plains of Paysandu behind me, and,
being anxious to get well away from a neighbourhood where I was expected
to kill someone, I did not rest till I had ridden about twenty-five
miles. At noon I stopped to get some refreshment at a little roadside
_pulperia_. It was a wretched-looking place, and behind the iron bars
protecting the interior, giving it the appearance of a wild beast's cage,
lounged the storekeeper smoking a cigar. Outside the bar were two men
with English-looking faces. One was a handsome young fellow with a
somewhat worn and dissipated look on his bronzed face; he was leaning
against the counter, cigar in mouth, looking slightly tipsy, I thought,
and wore a large revolver slung ostentatiously at his waist. His
companion was a big, heavy man, with immense whiskers sprinkled with
grey, who was evidently very drunk, for he was lying full-length on a
bench, his face purple and swollen, snoring loudly. I asked for bread,
sardines, and wine, and, careful to observe the custom of the country I
was in, duly invited the tipsy young man to join in the repast. An
omission of this courtesy might, amongst proud and sensitive Orientals,
involve one in a sanguinary quarrel, and of quarrelling I had just then
had enough.